


Left Behind

by ohmyguts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Birth, Injury, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25545382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyguts/pseuds/ohmyguts
Summary: Prompto wakes up from his fall from the train, aching all over. The pain of Noctis pushing him is almost as bad as the wounds on his body, but his first concern is making sure he and his unborn baby make it through this.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 11
Kudos: 138





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> you should guess by now that if prompto is in pain, im gunna just add some preg in there to satisfy my sadistic needs

His whole body was just one giant aching bruise. He groaned as he tried to wriggle his fingers and toes, making sure he still had at least decent control over all his limbs. His mind throbbed and he had to breath through his mouth in slow, forced breaths to make sure he wasn’t going to throw up. It took a second for his mind to click back in, to think about something other than the pain all over and the hurt that Noctis had pushed him.

He jolts upright suddenly, hands grasping for his stomach. The baby. How could he possibly forget the unborn child inside him? Everything hurt so bad he could differentiate the pain to decide if it was coming from his stomach or not, but he hoped he’d protected it enough during the fall that everything would be okay, but it was still a risk. A terrifying risk.

Everything looks in place from the outside, his stomach is still round and firm where it sits on his middle. His skin is littered in scratches and newly formed bruises, but he can’t tell how deep the damage goes beyond that. He does register a concerning dampness between his legs, soaking into the fabric of his pants and feeling unpleasant against his skin. Maybe he’d peed himself during his tumble along the forest floor, his bladder was crazy sensitive these days and as embarrassing as it would be to admit it wasn’t an impossible thought.

Prompto couldn’t even see the train anymore, long gone now as it hurtled its way towards Gralea. He had no way of getting back on the train, no way of getting back to them quickly, especially not in the state he was. Maybe it was for the best, the others would be safer without Prompto and the baby being a liability. No longer would they have to constantly look over their shoulders to make sure he was alright. He still wanted to help though, still felt he should be with them to the end like he promised.

No. No way was he leaving them. He’d worked so hard to stand by their side, so hard to convince them he was worth it. If they were going to reject him, he at least needed them to do it to his face.

He heaved himself up from the ground, awkwardly shifting to find something to grasp onto to help support his weight as he stood. His legs shake as he leans against a nearby tree, his right leg feels weirdly numb, but he’s chalking it up to fall damage at this stage. He has to get moving, that’s the best he can do right now. He has to figure out someway to catch up with the others, even if he has to walk there. He’s not giving up.

He starts his slow hobble in the direction the train was headed, guessing it’s better to follow the tracks so he doesn’t get lost. It’s not as easy going as he’d hoped, limping with his numb leg while his head still sways dizzily and his body throbs in pain. He only makes it a few metres down before he falls heavily against a tree, wheezing and coughing through the pain.

A sharp stabbing pain that hits him right in the hips has him falling to his knees, taken by surprise at the horrible pain that suffocates him. It’s worse than all of the bumps and scratches and aches from the fall, and it’s coming right from his womb. Right from the baby.

“N-no, please no” he gasps, he knows this pain can’t be good. He can’t even tell if it means somethings wrong with the baby, or something else entirely. Something he’s too afraid to admit.

The pain passes after a few moments, allowing Prompto to catch his breath and try pull himself back on his feet. He has to keep moving, fear driving him to walk on numb, wobbly legs even as his mind races at all the things that could be going wrong right now. He has to at least get somewhere safer, somewhere out of sight so that no MTs can find him.

He makes it another few slow metres down the path before another sharp pain hits him, making him yell out as he grips for his stomach. Not good. Not good at all. He can still feel the dampness of his pants, and he’s starting to think it wasn’t his bladders fault. He doesn’t give himself long to sit around as soon as the pain eases up he pushes him forward again.

Not now. Not here. Not like this.

He doesn’t want to give birth like this.

Another pain hits him sooner than he expected. It’s happening too fast. He’s not ready for this. It holds long and hard, making his breath come out in short gasps as he tries to suffer through it.

“Please, wait a little longer, just a little longer…” he begs, hands rubbing the sore skin of his stomach. He knows the baby won’t listen, but it’s all he can do to try keep himself together, to stop himself from breaking down right now.

There’s a break in the path up ahead, an empty MT dropship sitting abandoned just off from the train tracks. He stops warily, glancing around for any sign of danger, but at the chunks of metal and debris that litter the ground he can only guess that any MTs that were here are gone now. He hobbles toward the craft, thankful for something large enough to hide in for the moment. It doesn’t stop another pain from shooting into his hips and back, making him gasp as he almost loses his balance. He’s almost there though.

He hits the ramp of the craft before half crawling his way inside. He falls onto his bottom, heaving out laboured breaths as his stomach contracts again, even closer than the last ones had been. It’s too close now, too close and too obvious for him to pretend he isn’t in labour anymore. That he isn’t about to have a baby right here, all alone.

He groans as he can feel his massive stomach clench, pressure building down in his hips. His hands shake as he grasps for the waist of his pants, trying to undo the buttons and zipper as quickly as he can as he feels something shift deeper inside him. It’s happening too fast, he can’t do this, it’s too soon. His hands still shake but he manages to undo his pants enough to slide down his hips and thighs before his head throws back as a scream erupts from his lungs.

It hurts, it hurts so bad. It felt like a searing hot rod was scrambling up his insides. It was too late now, there was nothing he could do to stop the baby from coming out, even without pushing he could already feel himself opening up around it. He leans himself forward as much as he can over his stomach, reaching over with his hands to touch at his opening. He can’t quite see anything that’s happening thanks to his belly, but his hands tell him that the baby’s head is already in position.

He let’s a relieved sigh out in at least knowing that it’s not breech, it’d been so long since they’d had access to any sort of medical facilities, so he had no way of knowing if the baby had moved into position yet. He can confidently push now that he knows the baby is in position, breathing deeply before letting his body bare down. He can feel it sliding forward and he gasps sharply as the stretch becomes worse, it somehow hurts more now, feeling like he might rip open with how tight he stretched.

His hands were still there, feeling as the baby’s head moved forward, ready to support it as it slid out of him. He kept a close watch over his belly, still unable to see anything over the mound. He takes several deep breaths, counting himself down before he pushes again. He feels the moment the baby’s head pops out, falling into his waiting palm as a brief moment of relief washes over him once the stretch eases up. Almost there.

Now he can see the top of it’s head when he looks between his legs, and he almost loses it at the sight of the wet dark head of hair that clings to it’s skin, but it’s not over yet. He’s not done.

He pushes again, harder and harder, urging the babies body down more until he can feel it sliding forward more until something stops. Fear is gripping him as he can feel something snag inside him, a sensation he’s sure to never forget. Then he sees it. He can only just glance it from where he sits with his stomach blocking most of his sight, but the baby looks pale and there’s a blueish cord coiled around it’s neck. Oh god, the cord.

Prompto shuffles his hands around, moving to support the baby’s head while the other comes over to tug at the slippery cord, pulling it up and over the baby’s head as quickly as he can. It slides off and he pushes again, baby finally slipping out into his hands. He quickly curls forward, looking at the baby in his hands.

A boy, small and slimy, but he’s pale and limp. Prompto can feel his stomach drop and his heart clench as he looks at the baby’s motionless chest, not hearing the sound of crying he expected.

“No, no no, come on, you’re okay” he cries, lifting the baby, his son, up to pat and rub at his back, he wipes at his face, trying to clear his nose and mouth of any slime that might be blocking it.

“Please, please, no come on, come on!” He yells, eyes willing with tears as he frantically pats at his back and wipes his face, begging that he’ll breath, that he’ll start to cry.

Suddenly he hears a wet breath followed by his crying. His arms move, and his head turns to the side as he cries hard and loud, pale colour slowly fading into a warm pink as he cries. Prompto’s whole body sags into the baby, pressing his face against his sons as he takes his first breaths. He cries just as hard, hands cradling him close to his body as tears roll down his face and he listens to the sound of his baby’s voice. He did it. They did it. They survived this together.

“Oh, thank the Gods” he sobs, “You’re okay, you’re okay. Oh Gods, you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful, Hi.”

He laughs through his tears as he smiles down at his baby, wriggling in his arms like he’s reaching out to Prompto in his uncoordinated movements.

“Please, never ever scare me like that again!” he hiccups, lifting the baby up from his lap into his arms to cradle against his chest. He’s so glad that he’s okay now, but this would only made everything more difficult.

He grabs a Niflheim flag left inside the aircraft and swaddles his son in it, wiping at his body and making sure he’s kept warm as he holds him. He sits for a while longer, not sure if his legs are quite strong enough to support him at the moment, and he doesn’t want to risk stumbling or falling with his baby in his arms. He takes the time sitting with his son, counting his toes and fingers, petting his soft fluffs of dark hair, admiring how incredible this tiny person he made is, and how strong he is for someone only minutes old.

He gasps when he finally opens his eyes, finding the vibrant shade of blue there to be so similar to Noct’s that he starts to cry again. He doesn’t know whether to blame himself or Noctis for the fact that he missed the birth, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. He can only hope to make it back to them and give Noctis the chance to meet his son as well. He deserves that much, they both do.

If only he could have been here to see it himself.

**Author's Note:**

> id always planned on a few more chapters of prompto going through ep prompto with his baby and then finally the reunion with the guys again in zegnatus keep, but will i? who knows


End file.
